


Open Your Eyes

by Inell



Series: Just Like Me [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Alternative Universe - FBI, Case Fic, FBI Agent Derek Hale, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Mention of Rape/Torture (Off Camera), No Details, Pack Feels, Serial Killers, Stiles Has Nightmares, Vomiting, very brief though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 03:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9301223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Stiles and Derek get some new information Danny before going back to the hotel to get some rest and review case files.





	

**Author's Note:**

> im-a-feather-in-the-wind said: Sterek "shh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair" :D
> 
> This is the third part of what I have reluctantly admitted to myself is a little series (glares at the muse). This follows Better Safe than Sorry in the Just Like Me series. I really hope you enjoy this, bb! This is also #9 in the 2017 Prompt Challenge.

It’s half past ten by the time they get back to the bureau's Portland offices.

Isaac heads down to the lab so he can run results for some of the stuff he collected from Paige’s car. They aren’t expecting to find anything, but they know from experience that the proper procedure must be followed when dealing with a case like this. The last thing any of them wants is for someone to escape justice because they’re missing a lab result they didn’t collect. When Stiles and Derek enter their command center, Danny’s busy on his laptop, and Lydia’s organizing paperwork that’s falling off the printer.

“That was a dead end,” Stiles announces, walking over to the board to make a few notes under Paige’s photo, which has been added with the others. “We walked both possible routes from the club to her car, and we didn’t find anything useful.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s just disappointed that there wasn’t some glaring clue that’ll solve the case immediately.” Derek walks over to Lydia. “We located the area that’s likely the abduction site, which helps us narrow down some of the details.”

“Allison and Jackson went to get coffee. Erica and Boyd are back from the lake search, but they’re crashing for a few hours before coming in.” Lydia looks pointedly at Stiles. “Speaking of crashing, when’s the last time you slept, Stiles?”

“Yesterday,” he lies smoothly, drawing a line between Paige’s photo and Keith’s and then putting a question mark over it. “What if my gut’s wrong on this one?”

“When is your gut ever wrong?” Danny asks, tossing a wadded up paper at the back of his head. “Stop staring at the board like it’s going to suddenly show you the perp’s name. Come see what I’ve found.”

“It’d be nice if it _could_ do that,” Stiles mutters, picking up the paper and throwing it back at Danny. “If this were a television show, we’d already know who had Paige, and Derek would be carrying her out safely with his shirt strategically ripped.”

“Wait. Why would _I_ be wearing the ripped shirt?” Derek frowns at him. “And don’t think letting Danny change the subject means that Lydia and I both know you’re full of shit about sleeping yesterday.”

“You know why, Derek,” Lydia drawls, arching a brow and snorting when Derek looks away. “But you’re right. Danny isn’t going to be able to save you this time, Stiles.”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” Danny says, holding his hands up in front of him. “I wasn’t deliberately giving him an out because I owe him for playing wingman two weekends ago at Mischief. I’d _never_ compromise my integrity in such a way, and you’re wrong for even suggesting it, Derek.”

“What integrity, Daniel?” Lydia asks sweetly, arching a brow as Danny rolls his eyes. “You were caught hacking in your high school gradebook to make extra money when you were fifteen. I think that ship sailed a long time ago without you on it.”

“It’s not my fault the school had a terribly poor firewall,” Danny points out. “I was doing them a service by showing them all the ways it could get hacked.”

“Besides, if he _hadn’t_ done that, he wouldn’t have decided to try bigger fish at college,” Stiles says, sitting in the chair beside Danny’s table and rolling closer. “And he wouldn’t have got caught trying to hack into the Pentagon, thus we’d have never met him.”

“And not meeting me would be a tragedy for all of you.” Danny dimples before sliding his laptop in front of Stiles. “Now that we’ve settled the fact that I’m the best thing to ever happen to any of you and that Stiles is perfectly fine functioning on four hours of sleep in two days, let’s see how amazing I _really_ am.”

“It’s more like seven hours in three days,” Stiles murmurs, eyes already scanning the document on Danny’s laptop. “These are all victims found near bodies of water in Washington during the last year?”

“No, I widened the parameters. Since we’ve got people taken in Oregon and Washington, I thought I’d expand to Idaho, Utah, northern California, and British Columbia. It gives us a wider search area, which means more to sift through, but I think it provides a more accurate list of possible victims.” Danny scrolls down and highlights one case. “This one seems to stick out the most from what I’ve read so far, but there’s more possibilities that you’d expect. Bodies of water seem to be popular body dumping grounds.”

“They _are_ one of the most popular,” Derek says, coming up behind them and reading over Stiles’ shoulder. “More chance of deterioration before discovery due to damp air, predators seeking hydration, and possible distortion of identity if concealed in water. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten your initial training, Danny?”

“I’m the tech guy, not the body deterioration guy. I’ll leave that to Lydia and Isaac.” Danny grimaces. “Anyway, there are nearly two hundred people who were found dead around bodies of water in the search areas during the past five years. I’m running a program to narrow those results down based on age, assuming our perp sticks to over sixteen and under fifty. I’m also filtering out the natural causes and solved cases. That takes it down to sixty-three possible unsolved cases, so I’m printing those files out for us to review.”

“Why does this one stick out?” Stiles asks, scanning the details. A male found at a lake near Boise, signs of rape and torture similar to their victims. The pose wasn’t used, though, and the body had been wrapped in a cheap cotton sheet, as if trying to protect it from the elements. “I mean, the MO is similar, but not exact.”

“It was two years ago. Maybe the perp evolved.” Derek reaches for the mousepad, his hand brushing against Stiles’ as he drags his finger down it to scroll further. “Look at the autopsy report. The nails were trimmed and cleaned, and the body was bathed post-mortem. That’s like our guy.”

“The sheet indicates remorse.” Stiles rubs his shoulder against Derek’s, tapping his foot as he scans the autopsy report. There are some similarities there, but he’s still not getting the frisson of energy that usually lets him know they’re onto something. “Maybe it’s one of the first victims. Just getting started. Feels ashamed, covers the body after cleaning it, leaves it lying peacefully to be discovered. He hadn’t evolved into what he is now. Not yet. Still emotional enough to feel guilt.”

“You don’t sound convinced.” Lydia taps her pen against her upper lip, the silver casing standing out against her red lipstick. “What’s missing for you?”

“I’m not _not_ convinced.” Stiles sends the document to the printer by the door, not wanting to get queued up behind the twenty-four documents pending for the other printer. “I think it could be our guy. An early effort. I need to see more about the victim.”

“Oh, good. You’re back.” Allison punches Stiles’ shoulder as she enters the room. “That’s for wandering off on your own then daring to compare our concern to needing a babysitter. Asshole.”

“Love you, too.” He makes a kissy face at her before he reaches for a steaming cup of something in the tray Jackson’s carrying. “I don’t care if this isn’t mine, I’m confiscating it as senior member of the team.”

“That one is Derek’s, so you might want to go for this one instead.” Jackson taps the top of one that Stiles carefully takes. “You owe me for the warning, by the way. I’ll collect at some unspecified future time.”

“It’ll be a big one, too. I know. I know. You saved my sensitive taste buds from the sugary sweetness that is Derek’s usual order.” Stiles makes an exaggerated face at Derek. “How your teeth can be so perfect when you drink a cup of sugar and milk with a little bit of bitter coffee thrown in is beyond me.”

“Says the guy with the frothy cream and caramel,” Derek deadpans, arching a brow before he takes a sip of his coffee. “Strong and sweet, just like I like it.”

“Don’t even go there,” Allison hisses in Stiles’ ear, pinching him lightly on the hip when he opens his mouth to retort in a flirtatious manner. Well, considering his current lack of sleep and state of mind, it probably would have been more pathetic than flirtatious. Damn it. He owes for the save now, too.

“I think I need to get out of here before I owe you all,” he mutters, licking froth off his lip as he takes the papers off the printer. He looks up and sees Jordan typing at a computer, watching him for a moment because, despite his feelings for Derek, he isn’t _dead_ , and Jordan Parrish is good-looking guy. It’s a nice view, but that’s all it is. Jordan must feel him staring because he looks up and offers Stiles a smile that could almost be classified as shy. Stiles nods at him and smiles slightly before turning back to his team. “My brain is nearly fried, guys. I think I’m reaching the point where I’ll _have_ to sleep in order to keep functioning.”

“I’ll drive you back to the hotel. I could use a few hours, myself,” Derek admits. “Trying to keep up with you is exhausting for normal people.”

“What are you trying to say? I’m not normal?” Stiles feigns outrage. “I’m so offended. I have witnesses, so just you wait until Rafe finally gets his ass here. I’m so telling on you.”

“Go ahead. He’d agree with me, and you know it.” Derek smirks at him before grabbing some of the folders that Lydia’s put together. “I’ll take these to review after a nap.”

“Let me have some, too.” Stiles makes grabby hands until Jackson hands him a stack.

“You’re a moron. I sometimes find it really disgusting that your IQ is so much higher than mine,” Jackson says, giving him a haughty look.

“Don’t worry, Jax. One day, you’ll finally get out of the double digits,” Stiles says seriously, dodging the punch before it can reach it’s intended target: his shoulder.

“Sleep for at least six hours, Stiles. You know you’re useless when you get this way.” Allison frowns and looks into his eyes. “Don’t make me call Scott.”

“Ouch. That one hurts, Ali!” Stiles makes a face. “I knew that I should have never introduced you two. Ganging up on me with my brother from another mother is just wrong and breaking team ranks, you know?”

“Oh please. I met him through Rafael, and it isn’t wrong to tell the only person who can actually guilt you into taking care of yourself that you’re on the way to going off the rails.” Allison gives him a pointed look. “If you listened to anyone else, maybe we wouldn’t have to bring out the Scott card.”

“I listen to other people,” Stiles mutters, pouting at her as he walks over to join Derek, who is doing his best to cover up the fact he’s laughing. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, big guy.”

“C’mon, sulky. We’ll go get some rest then tackle these case files.” Derek leads him out of the room, and Stiles covers a yawn as they walk to the elevators. During the drive to the hotel, he actually winds down enough to doze a bit, getting caught in the space between sleeping and wakefulness. He does some of his best thinking in this space, so he hopes he’s able to recapture it he gets to his room.

“Come to mine?” He looks at Derek when they park at the hotel, arching a brow. “It’s the only way you’ll know for sure that I don’t end up reading files instead of sleeping.”

“You don’t have to give me an excuse to come, Stiles.” Derek looks into his eyes for a charged moment before glancing away. “Files can wait. You’re dead on your feet, and you aren’t thinking rationally when you get to this point.”

“I’m never not rational, Der.” Stiles slides out of the Tahoe and heads into the lobby. Derek follows behind him, and he scans the area as they walk, making note of anything that looks off. His steps falter when he thinks he sees his father standing by a fern, but it’s just a guy talking to his daughter. Rubbing his eyes, he tries to think back to when he _did_ actually sleep last. Before they came to Portland, which was days ago. Since being here, he’s only managed an hour here or there, which is usual when they’re on a case that hits a little close to home.

“You alright?” Derek waits to ask until they’re on the elevator heading to the sixth floor.

“Yeah. Fine. Thought I saw something but didn’t.” He glances at Derek. “You texted the team about Matt, didn’t you?”

“Why would you think that?” Derek stares back at him. “No one said anything.”

“Exactly. No one even asked how the questioning at the diner went, which means they’d already received a report.” Stiles shakes his head. “It’s fine. I don’t care that you alerted them, Derek. I just realized what felt slightly off, and now I _know_ I need sleep because I should have caught that sooner.”

“I just don’t like that guy,” Derek mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Haven’t since we first met him and he started hounding you about your past. I know what that’s like, to be forced to dwell on it when you’d rather not.”

“I thought I saw my dad in the lobby,” Stiles blurts out, running his free hand over his face and then cursing as he nearly drops his files. “I mean, it wasn’t him, obviously. He’s been dead for twenty years. But I think having Matt around poked a memory or something. I don’t know. I’m just really tired, and it feels wrong to be sleeping when there’s a young woman out there fighting for her life.”

“I’ll keep that creep away from you.” Derek bumps their shoulders together. “You’ve got enough on your mind without dealing with his stalking ass. One of the guys in the Seattle office still owes me a favor. Maybe I can reach out and have him distract the snake.”

“Nah, it’s not worth wasting the favor. Matt smells a big case the way cats smell catnip. He isn’t going to get distracted, not until this is done and we leave.” Stiles leans his head against Derek’s shoulder, wondering how the elevator can be so slow. “If he weren’t so sleazy, he’d be a good resource because he’s got good instincts.”

“Now I know you’re exhausted,” Derek teases softly, rubbing his cheek against Stiles’ head before the elevator doors open. “C’mon, sleepy.”

“I’m not the seven dwarves, Derek. Sulky and sleepy? What’s next?” Stiles walks down the corridor to his hotel room, swiping the key card and using his hip to open the door.

“Sassy.” Derek follows him inside, securing the lock before dumping the files on the table. “I need to piss.”

“You should have gone at Slaughter like I did.” Stiles pokes Derek’s arm. “But, noooo, _someone_ thought it would be filthy and stinking of urine. Too prissy to use the bathroom like normal folks.”

“Stiles, go to bed.” Derek rolls his eyes before walking to the bathroom. After he shuts the door, Stiles takes off his shoes and suit coat. He considers it a moment before also unbuttoning his shirt and removing his suit pants. Clad in his undershirt and boxers, he grabs the file for the Idaho murder and crawls into bed.

“Hey, this could be our guy,” he calls out when he hears the door open. He looks up and blinks when he sees that Derek’s also stripped down to his underwear and a t-shirt. Fortunately, he’s too tired to do more than gawk for a moment. He does wipe his mouth to make sure he isn’t drooling before he waves the folder at Derek. “The victim, Chad Booker, was twenty-five, and he was a therapist. The case went cold because no one really had any motive. His clients all loved him, and he didn’t have any failed relationships to make it a crime of passion. I could see our perp wanting this guy, though. Look at the photo. There’s something about the face, about the look in his eyes, that would appeal to our perp.”

“I’m too tired to focus right now, Stiles.” Derek rubs his hand over his face when Stiles just looks at him before he sits on the bed. “Fine. Let me see.”

Stiles hands the file over and scoots closer, the sheet tangling around his leg as he points out a few interesting things in the timeline of disappearance. As Derek starts reading, Stiles reaches over and starts playing with his hair. It’s getting longer, the result of not visiting a barber shop for a couple of months because they just haven’t had much time off lately. He bites his lip and starts weaving three sections of hair together.

“What are you doing?” Derek asks slowly, like he’s not entirely sure he even wants an answer.

“Shh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair,” Stiles tells him, frowning in frustration when he’s only able to get a few passes before he runs out of hair. “Damn it. It’s not long enough to really distract me.”

“I’d say it’s plenty long enough to distract you.” Derek’s lips quirk slightly, and Stiles groans.

“Your hair. _Not_ your dick.” Stiles cards his fingers through Derek’s hair to get rid of the braid before he taps the folder. “Do you see what I mean?”

“I think it’s a contender, but you weren’t convinced at the station, so I want you to look it over again after getting some sleep. Alright?” Derek puts the file on the bedside table and pulls the sheet over his hairy legs. Stiles is momentarily preoccupied with the contrast of tan skin and black hair against the white sheets, and he catches him reaching out to touch before he does something that is irreversible.

“Yeah, okay.” Stiles flops down on the bed and rolls onto his side, back to Derek as he stares at the photograph hanging on the wall. It’s a live action shot of the waterfalls near Portland, but he’s not sure which one. He feels Derek shifting behind him then settling down. Eventually, the sound of steady breathing fills the air. Stiles wiggles backwards until he’s pressing against Derek’s arm, relaxing when he feels the comforting warmth through his undershirt. His eyelids grow heavy as he listens to Derek breathing, his focus on the cloud of mist from the waterfall, his mind running through everything that’s happened since they arrived in Portland. Vivid images flashing like he’s watching snippets of a movie, organizing and reorganizing until he drifts off to sleep.

 _Little fox. You know. You can_ see _if you’d just open your eyes. Stiles looks at his hands, sees blood sticky on his fingertips, feels a presence behind him, guiding his hands._ Like finger painting. _He starts to run. Feels rocks cutting into his feet. Face scratched by tree branches. Falling on the damp ground. Looking around. Seeing nothing. Hearing the voice._ That voice _. Little fox. You can’t hide from me. Open your eyes. You_ will _see. See the truth as it truly is. That’s a good boy. Always good for Papa._

Stiles wakes up suddenly, sucking in gasps of air, clawing at his throat because he feels like he can’t breathe. He hears soft snoring beside him, feels a warm presence against him, and he pushes the dream away, breaks free of the nightmare. Derek’s here. He’s not alone. He can still hear the damn voice, though. _Little fox. Little fox. Just open your eyes. See the truth._ Not wanting to wake Derek up, he stumbles out of bed and goes to the bathroom. There’s too much in his head, too many images, it’s overwhelming.

Falling to his knees on the cool tile, he throws up, emptying his stomach until he’s dry heaving. He pulls of his shirt, soaked with sweat from his bad dream, and he wipes his face with it. Tossing it on the ground before shakily standing up. After rinsing his mouth, he stares in the mirror, blinking at the face staring back at him. His mind begins to race, putting things into order, tossing out pointless stuff, rearranging until the puzzle is no longer missing so many pieces.

His eyes widen as he steps back from the sink, running his fingers through his hair and leaving the bathroom in a hurry. No, that can’t be right. He’s still got to be missing something. How could he not see that sooner, if it’s true? He grabs the file on the bedside table and reads it with fresh eyes. Three and a half hours of sleep, going by the time on the clock, and he’s more alert than ever before. He isn’t sure if he’s right, can’t imagine how it makes sense, but he knows this is what his mind is trying to tell him that he needs to see.

He drops the folder on the table and curls up behind Derek, barely touching, just enough to feel body heat, listening to the soft snores and steady breathing as he stares at the whorls of dark hair against Derek’s neck. Now that he sees, he’s got to figure out what to do. How to handle this. How to make sure he’s right without putting his team—putting _Derek_ —at risk. There are ideas, possible plans, various options that he considers while lying there watching Derek sleep, knowing he’s slept as much as he will today.

_That's my good boy. Once you’ve identified your prey, you wait patiently for the perfect moment. Then you strike. You’ll consume and leave nothing because you’re like me, little fox. A predator meant to balance the world. Just like me._

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)
> 
> Alright. My muse won't let me just leave this story without giving y'all the conclusion I've got in my mind. I do apologize that this will take a series form instead of a multichapter, but I honestly didn't intend to continue this, and I don't want to lose the comments/kudos on the second part so I'm turning it into a series. Forgive me!
> 
> Also, I love hearing y'all's theories! It's part of what's got me eager to keep writing so y'all can see if you're right or not! That being said, I won't be directly addressing anyone's theories because that's part of the fun of reading a mystery.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Open Your Eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866376) by [taikodragon (hana_ginkawa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hana_ginkawa/pseuds/taikodragon)




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